


Curtains Closed

by onlyfortheboysintheband



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-20 15:00:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3654675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyfortheboysintheband/pseuds/onlyfortheboysintheband





	1. Chapter 1

_**Art student looking for a flat mate. I live in a two-bedroom apartment in the centre, near the University and I am desperate for someone to share it with, as the rent is too bloody expensive. I am up until three o’clock almost every night listening to records, smoking, and drinking. If that doesn’t repulse you and you’re willing to pay £100 a month then ring this number: 07795622515.** _

“Thank you,” Alex smiled at the waitress who had brought him coffee.

He was sitting on a stool by the window in a small, homey café. Alex took the coffee mug into both of his hands and gazed out of the window, whose bottom half was foggy because of the temperature difference between the harsh Manchester weather and the cosy, warm coffee shop. He had always enjoyed people watching and was glad to find a place that enabled him to do exactly that.

Putting down the mug after he’d stupidly taken a sip of the beverage too early for it to not burn his lip, he looked at the stained piece of paper beside him again. He’d noticed it immediately after he had sat down at the table on a pile of newspaper and design magazines left there for the customers. The roughly scribbled-on paper was already decorated with stains in the shape of teacups, indicating that no one had paid any extra attention to it. He took it into his hands and examined it up close. It looked like it had been ripped out of a sketchbook- _of course, an art student_.

Alex had just moved to Manchester from Sheffield. He was starting his first year at university and also his first year living on his own, which proved to be much harder than he’d initially imagined. He had always lived in a world, which he had imagined in his head and in that perfect world he got to Manchester and was instantly greeted with a flat, a job, and a group of friends. The harsh reality of the city slapped him across the face the first day upon moving, when he realised that he had to physically go apartment hunting and that his parents were no longer there to help him with any of it. Now it had been a week since he’d stepped out of the train and he was getting more desperate by the minute. He checked different websites and newspaper adds every morning in the hopes of finding a small, rather cheap flat in the city, leaving the option to live in a dorm to be his last.

He squinted his eyes at the paper in his hands and shrugged his shoulders. _What did he have to lose?_ He had the money, at least for now, and he was strangely drawn to the note. Was it the nice handwriting or the mystery person it belonged to he found intriguing? Without thinking about the dangers of calling a complete stranger with the intention of living with them Alex typed the number into his phone.

“’ello?” a man, or rather a young adult, answered. It occurred to Alex that he hadn’t thought about it being a woman for even a second.

“Err, hi. I’m callin’ about the note you left in the café at Oxford Road. Are-are you still lookin’ for a flat mate?”

“Wow, I didn’t imagine someone actually callin’ back on the offer,” the voice on the other side laughed rather cynically, “sure I am, are ya interested?” Alex noted by the accent the person wasn’t from Manchester.

“Yes, yes I am. I’ve been lookin’ for a place to live in the city, I just moved ‘ere from Sheffield.”

“I could tell from the accent, la. You probably want to see the place first, right? Come by at any time today, I’ll just get more pissed as the evening progresses, so I suggest you stop by before eight. Get a pen, I’ll tell you the address.”

“Oh, yes,” Alex looked around frantically before he spotted a pencil on the other end of the table, “okay, go on.”

“Corner of Princess and Bloom Street, the building’s not numbered, but it’s the first one on the right if you’re coming from Princess Street.”

“Thanks,” Alex said as he scribbled down the names of the streets, which he would have to look up later as navigating through the city was still an almost impossible task for him.

“If there’s a problem or sumthin’, you now have me number,” the boy said before hanging up.

 _He didn’t seem like a complete psychopath_ , Alex thought, although he didn’t even tell him his name. He put down his phone next to the now almost cold coffee and pondered the outcome of this situation. The boy could be overly messy, or loud, or a complete dickhead for that matter. Or he could be entirely oblivious towards Alex, which he hadn’t decided whether it would be a good thing or not. Maybe he is a neat freak and Alex won’t be able to sit down on the sofa to eat his dinner without getting shouted at.

Hoping to at least get a good story out of it he downed his coffee and grabbed his wallet and phone before stepping out onto the busy street. He pressed his woolen coat closer to his body as he started walking towards a city map by a bus stop. He traced the coloured lines resembling the streets with his index finger until it stopped on Princess Street. Fortunately, it wasn’t far from where he was.

After a few minutes of walking he was standing in front of a post, which displayed the street sign of where the person from the phone call was supposed to live. Alex walked over to the first building on the right as he was told and looked at the list of residents. The building was a typical brick house with four stories and big, iron-framed windows, which were quite useless at retaining any heat during winter. _Light in the flat over warmth_ , Alex thought. He searched for the boy’s name on the list, but had to mentally hit himself over the head when he realised that he in fact didn’t know his name. Alex pulled his mobile phone out from his pocket and rang the last number in his call history.

“You’re rather early, aren’t you?” the same voice from before answered.

“Sorry, didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Alex admitted shamefully.

“S’alright, you’ve caught me on me first bottle of the evenin’, so I’m still able to hold a conversation, I’ll be down there in a second.” With that the still mysterious boy hung up.

Alex’s nerves were getting to him as the meeting with the possible serial killer neared and he found himself repeating _please, be normal, please, be normal_ in his head until he saw a pair of skinny legs running down the stairs to open the entrance door. He was more than surprised to find a boy, _a very attractive boy_ , probably the same age and just a tad bit taller than him standing in the doorway. He had brown hair that covered his forehead but stopped just conveniently to let his big eyes peak through the fringe and then it continued to curl at the level of his ears. The boy was wearing a navy blue sweatshirt that, to an extent, hid the fact that he was beyond skinny and a pair of tight jeans that proved his observation even further.

Alex only realised he had been staring for too long when the boy smiled, showing his slightly crooked teeth and full cheeks, and asked if he was alright. When Alex nodded, the boy gestured for him to follow.

“I’m Miles by the way,” he turned around on the stairs and smiled at him again. For some reason Alex knew he was only smiling so much because he had apparently drank too much already, but he still found it quite endearing.

“I’m Alex,” he snapped out of his thoughts again, “where are ya from? You don’t sound like you’re from ‘round here.” he inquired.

“Me family’s from Meols…that’s near Liverpool,” he added as Alex made a face signaling complete confusion, “I moved to Manchester last year for school.”

Miles stopped in front of the door with the number 4A; they were on the top floor. He opened it and moved to the side to let Alex walk in first. Alex found himself standing in a large, spacious sitting room. Spacious mostly because of the lack of furniture; the only being a red sofa in the middle and a floral-patterned armchair opposite to it. A pile of neatly stacked books was used as a coffee table and apart from that, only a turntable and dozens of scattered records filled the room. A few unframed sketches and photos decorated the otherwise white walls. Alex walked over to the big windows he had noticed from downstairs and looked out of them onto the street below him.

“S’nice view, innit?” Miles observed Alex, secretly hoping he would agree to move in right away.

“Yeh-yes, it’s amazin’, must be even better at night,” he leaned onto the glass with his hand.

“Come on, I’ll show you the bedroom,” Miles pointed towards the two closed doors on his left.

Alex followed him towards the one closer to the windows. The room was exactly the right size for Alex; he never enjoyed big bedrooms as they lacked the needed coziness. It had the same window as the ones in the living room and walls exactly the same colour. Luckily, there was a double bed in the opposite corner, so he was speared of a visit to Ikea.

“So?” Miles followed Alex’s face in case he was to miss an unpleasant expression, “what do you think?”

“It’s not much,” Alex stated, but seeing the boy’s face sink he added, “but it’s exactly what I was lookin’ for.”

Although he knew nothing about this boy except the fact that he wasn’t really a fan of furniture, but compensated it with hundreds of records and cheap wine by the smell of things, he had a strange feeling they would get along well. Even if they would not, he could probably stomach a few months with him and hopefully find a better place once he got to know the city a bit better. Miles showed him through the rest of the flat; the small black and white tiled kitchen that smelled of burnt toast and the similar looking bathroom with a rustic bathtub with golden taps. Though it was all quite unnecessary because Alex had long ago decided he would take on the offer, partly because he was too lazy to look for anything else and partly because of the skinny boy that he was to share it with.

“So?” Miles asked again.

“I’d be happy to move in,” Alex answered after giving the apartment one final look.

“Great!” Miles exclaimed, his face beaming.

“When can I move in?”

“Anytime, really.”

“A’right, I just ‘ave to get me things from the hostel I’m stayin’ at, so I’ll be here in an hour or so and pay you right away!” Alex said nervously as it was all moving too fast, he imagined it would be a much more complicated process and take a lot longer.

He dismissed Miles’ offer of helping him get his stuff and he promptly left the building, eager to be back there as soon as possible, getting to know his new flat mate.


	2. Chapter 2

Miles closed the door behind Alex and sighed contently. Finally, he had someone to share the flat with, and not just because he was low on money, but because he felt so damningly lonely. So much so, that he didn’t even care who would move in; he just needed another human being in his close proximity. That is why Miles wrote the note in the café in first place.

He had been living in Manchester for a year and his closest friend was a girl he sat beside during his lectures and they didn’t even talk outside of school. Not that he wasn’t a likeable person, on the contrary, Miles has always been a very outgoing person and had plenty of friends back in Liverpool, but since he had moved to Manchester he wasn’t able to make any new ones. It may have been because it was a larger city, or because he didn’t really want to give up on his old relationships by meeting new people. Slowly, but surely he had fallen out of touch with his old pals and realised that he had no one left in his life.

He remembered writing the note on a sheet of paper he’d ripped out of his sketchbook and laughing at himself for being so desperate. He purposely wrote it in a way that made him look like the lowest form of life imaginable, his only past times being getting drunk and smoking a whole pack of cigarettes in one sitting, probably because he was secretly too scared to completely abandon his old life and face disappointment.

When the unknown number had rang just a few hours ago he didn’t even think about it being someone responding to his offer. And then, when he saw the boy, Alex, standing in front of his door looking like a lost puppy, he had to thank the heavens (he was pretentious) for blessing him with such a perfect outcome to what could have been quite a horrible scenario.

Miles put on a record that was on the top of the unneat stack and laid down on the sofa, not knowing what else to do with his evening. He decided to wait for Alex to come back with his belongings and help him unpack until a thought struck him, _was he being too clingy already_? He practically didn’t know anything about his new flat mate; maybe he wasn’t planning on making friends with Miles, or he didn’t even like him. He certainly seemed fine with talking to Miles, even smiled at him a couple of times, but who knows, maybe he’s over interpreting things again, he’s known to do that.

Miles was in the midst of changing the vinyl on his record player when he heard his phone ringing. He looked around the sitting room and spotted it on the sofa; he knew it was Alex calling. He didn’t even pick it up, just rushed downstairs to open the entrance door. He found Alex standing there with two bags in each hand, obviously struggling.

“Ya probably need a hand, right?” he asked and reached out to the bags in Alex’s left hand, not waiting for an answer. He definitely was too clingy, but Alex didn’t seem to mind. He grabbed one in each hand, carefully trying to avoid touching the boy’s hand whilst doing so, and turned around on his heel to walk up the staircase again.

“Thanks,” Alex muffled, clearly out of breath from walking through the city with so much stuff.

“Is this all?” Miles enquired when he stopped on the third floor to catch his breath.

“Luckily, yes, I would’ve died if I had to do this again,” Alex gestured around with his baggage.

They entered the flat, simultaneously dropping the bags onto the floor and examining their hands, which had lost their colour and were hurting a bit.

“Oh, hold on!” Alex started digging through his pockets until he pulled out a shabby black leather wallet. He handed Miles a hundred pound note and smiled.

“Err, ta,” he took the note, “I didn’t need it right away, really…but thanks anyway,” he smiled as well.

“It’s only fair,” Alex stated before picking up two of his suitcases and carrying them to what was to be his room from now on.

Miles sighed again; he was really hoping there would be more talking going on, but it felt as if he was living on his own again. He decided to grab another boxed wine from the kitchen instead. It was already 8 in the evening; he was well behind on his usual alcohol intake at this hour.

Alex emerged from his bedroom once more, unfortunately only to get the rest of his belongings. Then he disappeared behind the door for good, only leaving a tiny gap for Miles to occasionally watch him through, as the door didn’t fully shut. He kept drinking his wine straight out of the carton, getting into the well familiar state of complete numbness and content. He positioned himself on the sofa so that he had the perfect view of what Alex was up to, a part of his leg or arm occasionally visible through the slit between the door and the wall. If Miles had been sober, this would be considered too creepy, but as his intoxicated mind subtly reminded him just how desperately lonely he was, he didn’t find to be that strange at all.

It was nearing eleven o’clock and Miles’ second box of wine was long finished, now discarded on the floor right beside his feet, which were lazily dangling from the sofa. He didn’t even notice Alex coming in to the living room until he slumped himself next to Miles on the couch and let out a noise of complete exhaustion. Miles turned his head towards him although it wasn’t to much use as he wasn’t able to make his eyes focus on the boy. He tried squinting, but felt stupid doing so, rather deciding to close his eyes altogether. They went about sitting next to each other in utter silence for a couple of minutes until Alex spoke up.

“Do you usually drink this much?” he gestured towards the empty carton, which reaked of fermented fruit.

“Mate, this is the least I’ve drunk in ages,” Miles laughed, but it came out more as a saddened chuckle.

“Why’s that?” Alex asked, but looking at Miles’ puzzled face he rephrased the question, “why do you drink so much?”

Miles looked at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. It’d been a long time since someone was genuinely interested in his life and he certainly wasn’t expecting this to come from a person he’d met just a couple of hours ago. Nonetheless, he shrugged his shoulders and answered, “dunno, don’t have anythin’ else to do.”

“Don’t you ‘ave any friends?” Alex continued with his little interrogation, but muttered a quiet sorry seeing as Miles’ expression saddened even more at the subject of ‘ _friends_ ’.

“No worries,” Miles sighed and continued, “I had plenty of friends in Liverpool, but ya know how it goes, you all move to different cities, promisin’ to keep in touch, but then you slowly fallout and here I am a year later pissed on cheap wine,” he let out a noise, which could have been classified as a laugh and a cry at the same time.

“I know exactly what yer talkin’ about-“

“You do?”

“Yeah, I had a group of friends back in Sheffield, we were like brothers, but you cannot expect people to follow with you when you leave sixth form. We all wanted to do different things, go to different universities….same goes for me boyfriend.”

Miles finally looked at the boy sitting at the other end of the sofa, “you’re gay? …I mean, not that there’s anythin’ wrong with that.”

Alex nodded, “he went to King’s College to read English and neither of us felt like doin’ the whole long distance thing,” he scrunched his face, as if thinking back to the breakup caused him immense pain; it probably did.

“What about you, though, ha?”

“I’m not really the relationship type,” Miles ignored Alex’s snicker, “but I’d date literally anyone who’d be willin’ to date me, seriously.”

Alex chuckled, “well, that’s really a…eh…positive way to look at it.”

“Why, I am a very positive person,” Miles gestured at himself bitterly, making Alex laugh again.

He had the most intoxicating laugh, Alex did, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his nose scrunching up. Soon enough, Miles was laughing with him, not quite sure why he had started in the first place. The laughter died out soon and they were surrounded by silence again. It wasn’t so much as an awkward one, in fact, it felt quite comfortable sitting there besides someone and taking in their presence; a thing Miles had long gone forgot was so pleasant.

“I don’t want to nag, or anythin’, but I have a couple more questions about the livin’ arrangement,” Alex spoke up again, gesturing around at the phrase ‘ _living arrangement_ ’ as if it was quite the opposite of what he wanted to say.

“Like wha’?”

“Ya know, like, do we share food? Do we divide the fridge so we don’t mix our groceries-“ Alex rambled on until giving Miles a skeptical onceover, “do you even _eat_?”

Miles chuckled, “I see what you mean…usually eat at like Pizza Express, but if you’re willin’ to go out to the shops, I’ll pay me half.”

Alex nodded silently, letting the conversation drop, probably because Miles didn’t really look like the type to object to anything he would want to do in the apartment. Alex stood up, stretching his arms and mumbling a quite “it’s gettin’ late” before leaving for his room again.

The next morning Alex woke up to the sounds of another person already awake in the flat; something he had missed since leaving his family’s house. He looked at his phone to check the time and slowly rolled out of bed. A strong scent of coffee invaded his nostrils as soon as he opened his bedroom door. The air in the sitting room was slightly opaque due to Miles’ morning cigarette and the sunlight shone through the big windows, painting light marks on the white walls, which reminded Alex of a Joy Division album.

He couldn’t see Miles anywhere, although he had heard him rummaging around the flat just a couple of minutes beforehand. He went to get a glass of water, probably the only thing you could get from Miles’ measly-supplied kitchen, and practically ran into the other boy on the way back to his room.

It took his sleepy brain a couple of seconds to realise what had just happened, until Miles’ almost naked, apart from his underwear, body woke him up instantly. He was too pale even for living in England and Alex could point at every bone in his body as they protruded from his smooth skin. _Miles looked like a drug addict, but in a good way_ , Alex thought. His eyes met with Miles’ and he smirked, as if knowing exactly what was going on in Alex’s mind; to be fair, he wasn’t being too subtle with his looks.

“Mornin’,” Miles smiled, his voice a bit deeper than the night before.

He smelled of a spicy aftershave that suited him. Alex could imagine hugging him and being able to smell that scent as his face buried into his neck… _Alex, STOP_!

“You look…umm…fresher than yesterday.”

“Well thanks,” Miles said sarcastically and made his way through the flat to the bathroom, coming back with a toothbrush in his mouth.

He really did look better than yesterday. As if the sun had a direct impact on his complexion; the energy beamed out of him, but Alex was sure by the time he would see him again in the afternoon all of it would be gone, his swooning cologne would be replaced by the smell of his favourite alcohol beverage and his eyes would be darker and weary.

“When are you getting’ back?” Miles shouted at him through the door of his bedroom where Alex was putting on a pair of jeans and a Fred Perry t-shirt.

“Dunno, at about four, why?” he opened his door, now fully dressed. Miles was already at the door, struggling to put on a pair of chelsea boots.

“I was gonna get take out, there’s this Chinese place down the street.”

Alex smiled at him, “sure, that would be great, I’ll call you when I’ll be done with school.”

He only got a final brief glimpse of Miles’ coat as the boy ran down the staircase, shouting “lookin’ forward to it!”, which echoed around the building.

 _I can get used to this_ , Alex thought as he closed the door behind Miles and sighed contently.


	3. Chapter 3

**where are you?? food’s getting cold**

It was quarter to five and Miles still hadn’t heard from Alex. He was quite looking forward to eating their late lunch (or early dinner; student life messes up your body clock) together and he made a special effort to get out of school as quickly as possible to get home in time, suddenly too worried about Alex’s empty stomach. It felt very satisfying having a person to share your meal with, to share your routine with someone and exchange little stories from your day whilst doing so, but it looked like Alex didn’t get the memo.

Miles was sitting on the sofa with five takeaway cartons balanced on stacks of books - his coffee table - in front of him. He was well aware of the fact that the two of them were not going to be able to eat all of it, but as he was unsure of what Alex’s Chinese food preferences were, he got a bit of everything. He checked his mobile phone to see if the boy had responded and he had to cringe as he re-read the message he’d sent. _Fuck, that was aggressive_.

Alex struggled with getting his keys out of the pocket of his jeans (he had spent about half an hour looking for them in the morning because Miles decided to leave before handing them over) as both of his hands were carrying big plastic bags from Tesco. His phone vibrated in his jacket and he cursed internally, unable to look at who was texting him. He finally managed to open the entrance door and dumped his bags down after closing it behind him, hoping none of the groceries he had bought squished, opened, or god forbid, spilled.

A message from Miles flashed on the screen of his phone and he couldn’t help but smile at the neediness of the other boy. He practically sprinted up the four flights of stairs, as if the heaviness of the bags suddenly wasn’t as important as getting to have dinner with Miles, and knocked on the door of their apartment with his foot.

“Where the-“

“Sorry I’m late, Miles,” Alex apologised, a bit out of breath.

“Did you actually go grocery-shopping?!” Miles said as if it was the most unnatural thing in the world, “where were you all my life?”

Alex just laughed and entered their flat. _Their_ ; he still had to get used to that, but the idea appealed to him very much. He passed by the sitting room, his stomach growling as the smell of greasy noodles and fried spring rolls travelled to his nostrils, and left the bags on the kitchen tiles. Miles was already sitting on the sofa ( _their sofa_ ) when Alex walked up to him from behind and held up a green and purple box of the cheapest, yet the strongest wine Tesco could produce.

“Alex!” Miles almost cried out, “me favourite!”

The boy was practically beaming as he took the carton into his own hands while Alex settled next to him. It was then that Alex realised that Miles did not only get his energy from the warm sunbeams in the early mornings, but also from people around him. The proximity of another human being, presenting him with even such a simple gesture as buying a wine worth exactly £1.50, propelled Miles; his eyes were sparkling and the smile he had plastered on his face could warm the fucking sun.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the crackling sound of the carton lid unscrewing and he was soon offered to take a sip of the drink.

“Oh,” he coughed up, “this is _savage_!”

Miles only chuckled as he took the drink back, proving Alex wrong by downing the deadly liquid. “You’ll get used to it, la.”

“Do I have to?” Alex asked, seriously concerned.

“Yes if you’re goin’ to live with me,” Miles smirked. He directed his attention towards the food laid out in front of him.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got everythin’,” he smiled sheepishly before they both dug into their respective takeout containers.

The time flew by and they soon found themselves sprawled out on the opposite sides of the sofa with feet touching in the middle as the clock showed half past eight. Alex was extremely tired to say the least. Both the heavy food and the number of swigs from Miles’ ‘ _wine of death_ ’ had numbed Alex’s body and left him in a state of complete content.

“You don’t look like an art student, ya know that?” he pointed at Miles, but he wasn’t able to keep his arm up long enough before it slumped onto his stomach.

“How am I supposed to look?” Miles said with a hint of annoyance in his voice, though Alex was sure he didn’t mean it.

“I was expecting, ya know, coloured hair, dirty clothes, and I don’t know…tattoos?”

Miles laughed him off, “I am a university student, not a bloody heroin addict.”

 _Well, you certainly look like one…like a model-turned-heroin addict_ , Alex thought.

“And I study photography, by the way, I can’t draw for shit,” he said and gestured towards the sketches taped onto the walls.

Alex begged to differ, but it felt like he had given Miles too many compliments already for only knowing him two days, so he ignored his comment.

“You do?”

“Yeah, wanna see me work?” Miles stood up and motioned towards his bedroom door with his head.

Alex didn’t answer, just regained his balance after standing up and followed him in silence. He didn’t know what to expect from Miles’ room, so the fact that it wasn’t as sparsely furnished as the rest of the flat took him by surprise. In fact, the bedroom was quite the opposite of their sitting room.

There was the same bed that Alex had in his room and large wooden desk positioned right under the window that overlooked a different side of the town to Alex’s. Miles wasn’t really a neat person, so when Alex tried to walk towards the window to get a better look, his foot got caught up in pile of shoes and flannel shirts and it was only pure luck that kept him from falling over. The rest of Miles’ bedroom was filled with papers books, and cameras of different sizes and from Alex’s poor knowledge of photography also age and purpose. He picked up one of the smaller ones and examined it up close. It was placed in a brown leather case with only the lens peaking out, or at least that’s what Alex assumed it was.

“That’s a vintage Lubitel,” Miles said as he watched Alex turning the camera over in his hands.

“Does it still work?”

“’f course it does,” Miles chuckled as if Alex had said the most stupid thing in the world (he wasn’t sure, maybe he had), “wan’me to show you?” 

He took the camera from Alex’s hands and started turning a few buttons while the instrument made clicking noises. Alex was too tired, his eyelids were getting heavier and the sounds of Miles playing with the camera were very soothing. He lied down on Miles’ bed, stretched his arms up and closed his eyes.

Miles looked up after his camera was all ready to work only to see Alex laid out on his bed. Alex, the boy who had just moved in, was lying on _his bed_. It didn’t take too long for his imagination to conjure different scenarios in his head, but he decided it was because of the lack of human contact in his life recently. He shook off the ideas and brought the camera up to his face.

Alex looked almost angelic lying there surrounded by Miles’ unmade white sheets. As his arms stretched upwards they pulled his shirt up just enough for Miles to catch a glimpse of his pale stomach. His chest was rising and falling so peacefully that Miles caught his own breaths getting heavier with every second of staring at the boy. _He might be gay, but that doesn’t mean he’s interested in you, you idiot_. Nonetheless, Miles felt like this moment of complete solitude needed to be captured. He couldn’t decide whether Alex looked better through the lens, which gave off a vintage feeling to the overall scenery, or whether catching a sight of that boy with his own eyes was something he should treasure more. Miles pressed the shutter and quickly pulled the camera away to conceal any evidence before Alex opened his eyes.

“Did you just take a photo of me?” Alex asked when his eyes fluttered open.

“…maybe?” Miles played it off as a little child.

“If that’s gonna end up in some exhibition I want an invitation.”

Miles laughed it off, “don’t worry, ‘s not leavin’ this room.”

“Is it goin’ in your wank bank then?” Alex grinned at him.

“You got me there,” Miles replied sarcastically and dropped onto the covers next to Alex. Not close enough so that he was touching the other boy, but he still felt the heat radiating from him. He had to fight the impulse to move closer with all his might.

“Still want to be invited to that, you know.”

Miles turned to him with a raised eyebrow, but was met with an equally challenging look on Alex’s part. And here Miles thought he was the biggest flirt in the apartment. He knew that Alex was only having this conversation with him because he was drunk and tired (which after a certain hour of the day do the same thing to you), but a part of his brain couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if he leaned in, if he wrapped his hands around Alex, if their foreheads touched, if… _god, I cannot jump onto the first person who shows any interest in me!_

Alex gave him one last cheeky grin before unwrapping himself from the sheets he had brought closer with his hands, wished him goodnight and walked out of the room. Miles heard the boy’s bedroom door close and that was it. He cursed Alex for planting so many thoughts into his brain; thanks to him he wasn’t going to be able to sleep that night.


	4. Chapter 4

Friday evening had found a tired Miles and an even more exhausted Alex in their sitting room.

“I can’t believe it’s only been two weeks since you’d moved in,” Miles commented whilst searching through his record collection.

“Already getting’ sick of me, are we?” Alex smirked. Miles brushed it off with a slight snicker and continued to rummage through his vinyls.

“Is _Jacques Dutronc_ alright?” Miles checked with his flatmate when he finally found the record he’d been looking for.

“Ya bet it is,” Alex smiled and continued writing on his laptop. 

The other boy was sitting cross-legged on the floral armchair, hunched over one of his school assignments. He would occasionally frown, mutter a curse, or bite his lip in frustration, which Miles found quite endearing. He’d always loved observing people when they were so immersed in an activity they enjoyed. Watching Alex write was calming, it felt homely, but of course, the boy had no idea.

Although it had only been a couple of days, the two boys had fallen into a steady routine. Alex would prepare toasts in the morning while Miles would fix the coffee and light two cigarettes, putting one between Alex’s lips when his hands were occupied with spreading butter and Marmite onto their respective pieces of bread. They would meet again in the evening over a takeout from one of the local restaurants and finish the day off by listening to whatever Miles would put on the turntable. Miles enjoyed the domesticity and he could feel himself getting happier by the day. He had never thought a person could make such a difference in his life.

“Mi? How do you spell _effulgent_?” He looked up from his screen to look at the boy sitting on the floor in front of him with his knees under his chin. He couldn’t quite understand how Miles was able to fold his extremely long legs into such a position.

“Wow, an English student has just asked me how t’spell sumthin’, now that’s a first,” he mocked, earning himself a pillow flying in his direction.

Alex closed his laptop then with a sigh and settled on the floor next to Miles. He placed his head onto Miles’ shoulder and took out a cigarette from his pack. It surprised him how comfortable they’d become around each other in the course of just a few days. He couldn’t help but think what it would’ve been like if they had met earlier because Miles was clearly something that had been missing from his life. Alex had his friends back home and they had always been inseparable, but he felt like the connection between him and Miles was a one reaching far beyond similar music tastes and riding bikes on the hills outside of Sheffield. He remembered reading somewhere, that a true friend is the one you can spend countless hours with in complete silence without the need to talk to them to avoid awkwardness; that certainly applied to the two of them.

“You want a drink?” Alex handed his half-gone cigarette to Miles and made his way to their kitchen.

He heard an affirmative from the boy in the other room and poured them both a glass of whiskey. Since Alex took over the job of supplying the apartment with food, they were able to drink something far less vicious than Miles’ boxed wines. He nestled himself next to the boy again, replacing the fag in Miles’ hand with the beverage. A pleasant silence fell over the room as the last tones of _Dutronc_ ’s song came to an end. Subdued noises from the street outside their building mixed with the occasional clinking of their whiskey glasses added to the mellow atmosphere none of them was willing to break.

They didn’t have much choice though, as suddenly they heard moans and extensive banging coming from the flat under theirs. _Curse these bloody thin walls_. Miles looked over at Alex in surprise before one snigger lead to minutes of laughter.

“Oh my god, I can never look at them in the hallway again!” Miles was clutching his stomach with laughter.

“Yeah, I wonder if they’d find it pleasant if we were bangin’ above their heads.”

Miles stopped laughing and looked down at his glass. Alex had a way of saying exactly what Miles was thinking out loud.

“Mate, you cannot say things like tha’, or I’ll think yer bein’ serious!” Miles shook his head.

“Who says I’m not,” Alex smirked.

Miles noticed that Alex always became very flirty after a certain evening hour. He found it extremely frustrating getting mixed signals. He had become used to them intruding each other’s personal space because he knew not to dig into it much, but as soon as Alex started making unsubtle remarks almost every night, he didn’t know what to think of their relationship. _It’s just a touch, you fuckhead, he isn’t into you_ had become Miles’ mantra the last couple of days. He elbowed Alex below the ribs, but didn’t move his head from his shoulder.

“Oh, shit, I should get goin’.”

“To where?” Miles watched Alex stretching his limbs after he stood up.

“The English class is havin’ that mixer, remember?”

“Do you have to go?” Miles whined, fully aware of how overly attached he was being.

“Unfortunately yes,” Alex sighed, “don’t worry, I’ll be back for round two,” he motioned to the apartment underneath theirs, eliciting a laugh from Miles. With that he left the apartment.

It was half past one and Alex was still out at the pub. Miles contemplated sending him a message informing him that he had missed ‘round two’, but he found himself a bit annoyed with the boy. _He promised he’d be back soon_. He knew his jealousy was stupid; Alex was free to do whatever he wanted, go out whenever he felt like it, but since they had spent every night in each other’s presence, it felt strange not having him there. In the end he decided to leave Alex enjoy himself and went off to sleep.

He was woken up by a weight pressing against him. It was still dark in his room, probably just an hour or two after he had gone to bed. Without adjusting his eyes, he recognised the figure as being Alex just by the smell of his cologne. It was strange how little time it took for him to associate different scents with the boy.

“Al, the fuck,” he grinned at the lump lying on top of him, “this isn’t yer room, get off,” he desperately tried to push Alex away, but he couldn’t keep a straight face; the situation was too bizarre.

Alex reeked of alcohol, which surprised Miles as he was usually the one stinking of cheap liquor.

“Shhhh,” Alex pressed the palm of his hand not-so-gently against Miles’ mouth. It smelt of cigarette smoke. He tried mumbling through the boy’s hand, but to no use. Alex kept it sternly over his lips whilst he dipped down closer to Miles, his mouth making its way to his… _neck_?

Before he had a chance to push Alex away, the boy had attached his lips just below his ear and was leaving hot, wet marks on the sensitive skin. Miles' brain went to overdrive. He wanted to push the drunken wreck off of him, but at the same time this was all he had been dreaming of for days on end and it might have been the first and last chance he got to experience Alex like _this_.

He was brought out of his frantic thoughts by a moan escaping from Alex’s lips. This wasn’t right, Miles knew it, but he felt so hot and aroused. Alex’s hands had meanwhile travelled under his shirt, caressing his sides while more kisses were placed on his neck and jawline.

 _It’s dark, he won’t remember it anyway_ , Miles thought before grabbing Alex’s head into his hands and attaching their lips together. Alex didn’t seem to mind, it felt like he didn’t even know what was happening, as if he was’t even present. His lips were chapped and moved in sync with Miles, but it all felt one-sided. Miles placed one final peck onto Alex’s bottom lip before pushing the boy off of him, letting him sink into his bedsheets. He covered him with his duvet; Alex seemed to silently agree with everything he was doing. Miles closed the door of his bedroom where Alex had fallen asleep in mere seconds and moved to the sofa with a blanket, trying to regain his breaths.

He imagined kissing Alex would be completely different. Although it was still probably the best kiss of Miles’ life, he now felt empty inside. The emptiness might have had its roots in the fact that Alex wasn’t in a right state of mind, and although Miles was well aware of kissing the other boy, he might have been kissing a lamp post for that matter. Now he felt dirty, he felt as if he used the boy for his own pleasure, to satisfy his own stupid needs and that stupid crush of his. _But why did Alex come into my bed?_ Miles finally fell asleep with the fear of the next morning burning in the pit of his stomach.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex’s eyes fluttered open and a sudden panic washed over him when he realised he wasn’t lying in his own bed. He turned his head slightly to breathe in the scent of the covers. They smelt like… _Miles? Oh no_.

Fearing the worst he stretched his arms to the other side of the bed, but luckily it was empty. He was still fully clothed, which was also a good indicator that nothing damningly bad had happened during the course of the night. He prompted himself on his elbows to survey the room, but there were no signs of Miles anywhere. Alex remembered staggering out of the pub after his classmates had poured enough liquor in him to kill a smaller animal, but after that there were only flashes of small fragments of what he might have been up to. His head felt like it would explode within seconds and his stomach was still burning as if the excessive amount of alcohol still hadn’t fully dissolved into his system.

Refusing the strong impulse to throw up on Miles’ bedroom floor, he made his way into the living room. He didn’t check the time upon waking up, but the sun’s weak beams suggested it was still pretty early in the morning. Alex adored how their flat would soak up the cold autumn sunlight, making it look like they were living in New York City, not the grim city of Manchester.

It was a nice idea though; living somewhere so far away from home with Miles by his side. Alex could see it so vividly. Miles would be working for an expensive magazine, taking photographs of beautiful models or popular bands with the city’s skyline as the backdrop, meanwhile Alex would be at home, in a large, sun-filled loft, working on his novel and they would spend their evenings at rooftop parties or at home with just each other for company because that is all they would need to achieve complete solitude.

A figure by the window caught his eye, making his daydream disappear. Miles had moved the floral chair right under the windowsill and was now silently sitting in it, smoking a cigarette (probably not the first, judging by how cloudy the air was in the room) and gazing out at the city laid out in front of him. It almost seemed as if he hadn’t noticed Alex coming in if it weren’t for the slight shudder of his shoulders when the door behind Alex closed. He looked deep in thought; Alex knew something wasn’t right.

“Eh, Mi? I have a few questions about last night.”

Miles turned his head abruptly towards him, looking like a deer in the headlights, as if he wasn’t expecting Alex to speak to him. He looked as if he hadn’t had a good night sleep, _shit, probably because of me;_  his whole body was tense, but tired at the same time. His striped shirt was sticking to his chest, making his irregular breathing pattern that more visible. It suited him, that shirt; it made him look younger, but somehow he was still able to look sexy; only something Miles was capable of achieving.

“Sure, what’s up?” Miles finally spoke, but there was a wary edge to his tone.

“How did-,” Alex laughed cynically at what he was about to say, “how did I end up in your bed?”

Miles looked as if someone had hit him over the head with a shovel, but the momentary panicked glance was soon replaced by a forced laugh that wouldn’t fool anyone.

“You came in drunk…must’ve mistaken me bedroom for yours, so I took a blanket and moved to the sofa. ‘S no big deal,” Miles tried to add a reassuring smile at the end, but the way he spoke gave Alex the impression he wasn’t telling the whole truth. Alex let it be, though. He patted him on the shoulder, thanked him for not kicking him out of his bed and ignoring how Miles flinched at the touch he went on to make tea for both of them.

Miles was silently sipping on his tea, the almost boiling temperature not bothering him because his lips were already numb due to the half a pack of cigarettes he had smoked since waking up. He had gladly accepted it when Alex placed it on the windowsill and was ever more glad when the boy didn’t try to talk to him again. He needed time to think. His mind was overworking itself, still unable to process the events of the night.

 _I lied to him. I FUCKING LIED TO HIM_. He shut his eyes closed until he could see white spots instead of pure darkness. _Does Alex have feelings for me? No, surely not. But he came into my bed and basically started grinding his body against mine. He was just drunk and sexually frustrated, don’t be daft, Miles_. His head hurt from the plethora of thoughts. _Do I have feelings for him? Of course I do. He is gorgeous, he smells heavenly, he’s always warm when he leans on my shoulder. He fucking leans on my shoulder. His eyes crinkle up so beautifully when he laughs, he takes such good care of me. I don’t even know who I was before I met him. But he would never like me back; just sexual frustration, remember?_ Miles took out another cigarette from its red and white packaging. The city looked beautiful on weekends such as these. The sun reflected itself on the roofs of shops and houses, the air was so crisply fresh; it smelt like a new beginning, but his mind couldn’t appreciate that at the moment. It was occupied by Alex.

It was later that night, when Alex had sobered up completely and his head stopped pounding that more memories of the previous night had come back to him. The bathroom was filled with steam and Miles’ vanilla-scented body wash; Alex felt more at home than ever before anywhere else. He remembered smelling that same vanilla scent when he leaned on Miles the evening before, he remembered how it made his stomach churn. He was taking a bath, his mind and body completely relaxed, when an image of him stammering into Miles’ bedroom made its way to his closed eyelids.  _He flopped onto Miles’ bed, ignoring the protesting body under him. He enclosed Miles’ torso with his legs and…fuck_. Alex splashed his face with water as his breathing and heartbeat fastened.

“I kissed you, didn’t I.”

Miles looked up from his book at Alex, whose hair was still damp from the bath. _The Picture of Dorian Gray, my favourite_. He put it down unwillingly, sighed, sinking further into the sofa and said nothing. The silence was an answer stronger than any carefully chosen words that could have come from Miles’ mouth.

“ _Oh, Mi_..” Alex reached for Miles’ forearm, but stopped himself mid-way given the situation, “…I’m so sorry, I’m so fuckin’ stupid, I-“

“Alex, don’t,” Miles signalled with his hand and took a deep breath, “just…let it be, you were pissed, doesn’t matter.”

“It fuckin’ does, Mi!” Alex was desperate, “I’ve ruined everythin’ we have.”

Miles placed the hand which wasn’t on top of his book on Alex’s shoulder, “Al, believe me, it’s fine,” he gave him a slight grin, “okay?”

Alex nodded quickly and leaned in on his friend, “thank you.”

That night Miles couldn’t sleep. _I lied again. Everything is not okay._


	6. Chapter 6

Slowly, but surely, Miles had began to forget about _that night_. It was a painful process seeing as he spent the majority of his time by Alex’s side, breathing in that same scent and feeling the same warmth radiating from him he did when the boy was lying on top of him.

They had never discussed it again. Sometimes, when it felt like the sun would soon peek out from behind the tall buildings on the other side of the city, Alex would bring up the subject again, obviously not quite satisfied with Miles’ half-arsed lie. Miles would then proceed to brush it off and silence his guilty conscience with a heavy drink. He hated the suffocating feeling that overtook him when he thought back to what he had done, how he had used Alex for his own pleasure. Still, Miles didn’t quite figure out why Alex had gone into his bedroom in the first place. _Of course, he was painstakingly drunk, but that couldn’t have been all of it_. He couldn’t ask him though without revealing the truth, so after a while he had decided it to leave it all behind them.

"Sorry, mate, runnin’ late!“ Alex burst into Miles’ room at what he had assumed was too early because his alarm hadn’t gone off yet.

For a moment Miles’ heart stopped beating as the situation reminded him of the last time Alex had burst through his door like this. He brushed off the slight pain in his heart it evoked and asked the other boy what was going on, but because he hadn’t woken up yet, only a few incomprehensible slurs escaped his mouth.

"I haven’t got a clean shirt, I need to borrow yours,” Alex seemed to have understood what Miles was trying to say, “shit, mate, do you have anythin’ of only _one colour_?”

Miles grabbed the first thing that he could reach and threw it at Alex, too tired to come up with an actual comeback. Unlucky for Alex, it was a book and even though Miles was usually terrible at aiming, he managed to hit him right in his shoulder.

"Oi, someone’s aggressive!“ Alex squealed while rubbing the hit spot and continued with his search.

If only he knew that Miles had actually bought the book, a short collection of essays from the sixties, because it reminded him of the boy. Whenever Alex was busy working on an assignment or was out of the flat, Miles would curl up in his bed with the book, which worked as a sort of substitute for his missing presence.

“There’s a black one in the closet,” Miles finally said, sparing Alex of getting too frustrated over the mess in his bedroom.

He watched as Alex threw his baby blue Lacoste t-shirt on the floor _right in front of him_ and buttoned up Miles’ sleek number. Miles had always wondered how Alex was able to look so good in such simple outfits. The only relevant explanation he could come up with was that Alex’s character radiated off of him so strongly that something other than a white shirt, jeans, and the occasional leather jacket would simply clash.

“Where are you even goin’ so bloody early?” Miles enquired when he managed to finally revert his eyes from Alex’s form.

“I ‘ave me exam today, remember?”

“Then I’ll be waitin’ for you with a nice hot meal when you finish.”

“Oh, thank you, me lovely wife,” Alex pretended to blush and with a sarcastic kiss blown in Miles’ direction he grabbed his belongings and left the apartment. _______________________________________________________________________

“ _AAAAL_!” Miles pushed a beer into his hands before he could have had a chance to close their front door.

“What’s this for?” Alex asked, smiling at the silliness of the other boy.

“What do you mean what’s it for, it’s the end of the term, we have to bloody celebrate!” Miles said cheerily, pulling Alex into the flat with one hand and gulping down his own beer with the other.

“Mi, wait, we have to talk first,” Alex’s face turned serious and a bit of sadness peaked through his eyes.

Miles stilled in the midst of doing a drunken ballet turn and looked at Alex worriedly, “what’s wrong?”

His big puppy eyes were filled with sudden fear and uncertainty from what was to come. _God, this is going to be harder than I’d expected_.

“I’m movin’ back t’Sheffield.”

If Miles’ eyes were sad before, then now there had to be a thousand weeping widows making up the glow of his dark-brown irises.

“What? _Why_?”

“Remember that exam I took last week?” Miles simply nodded his head, nervously gripping the sides of his beer bottle. “I failed, Mi, I cannot continue with me studies,” Miles looked like he was about to say something, but Alex ignored him and continued, “there’s no reason for me to stay in Manchester anymore, so I’m movin’ back to the family house.”

“Al, but…-“ Miles started, every syllable from his mouth painted with pure heartbreak, but Alex interrupted him again, eager to get everything out of his system as soon as possible.

“I’ll help you find a new flatmate and I’ll pay next month’s rent too, don’t worry!”

Alex had spent his entire journey home from school trying to figure out how to break the news to Miles. He had even opted for walking, rather than taking the bus, just so he could clear his mind. Alex knew it wasn’t going to be easy, not just for Miles, but for himself too. It had been about six months since he had moved in with Miles and he had no trouble in saying that those months had been the best of his life. It were the little things that made him fall in love with Miles. Yes, _love_. He wasn’t afraid of calling it that; their relationship was special, no reason in denying that.

Alex remembered the time when he had caught a slight cold, his nose had been full and his head had been hurting, and Miles had brought him tea and stayed by his side, reading articles from NME. Or the time they had got high and ended up sleeping in the bathtub, unable to recognise which limb was whose. Or when Alex had been forced to stand as a model for a test shoot on one of Miles’ photography projects when Miles asked him to take his clothes off, saying it was a nude photo shoot, then laughing hysterically when Alex had actually began to strip. And he didn’t even try to pretend that he wouldn’t miss all those little moments.

Alex had been contemplating whether or not to stay in Manchester, but since he hadn’t been able to find a job and had been forced to start anew in his academic life, he decided that going back to where he had started was the sensible choice.

“But I don’t want another flatmate, I want you. Hell, _I need you_ ,” Miles almost cried out.

Alex gazed from his nervously moving fingers up at Miles and the image he saw pierced a hole in his heart bigger and more painful than any knife could. Miles had tears streaming down his porcelain cheeks, glinting in the late afternoon sun. His usually lively eyes were red and puffy and the always-present shine they had was coated with sorrow.

“What?” Alex was mesmerized. He didn’t know whether he had asked for Miles to explain what he had just said or to simply say it again and again.

“Alex, _I_ kissed you that night.”

“ _What?_ ” Now this time it was simply because Alex didn’t understand.

Too many thoughts rushed into his head, making him feel dizzy, as if he had drank Miles’ favourite wine. He was unable to speak; Miles’ words left him gasping for air and unable to move a single muscle in his body. Alex stood there, still as ever, and watched as the stream of tears running down Miles’ face was getting even stronger. He moved closer to the boy, just a few inches that he had to put so much effort into, but he couldn’t bring himself to place his hand on Miles’ shoulder. Alex felt betrayed, but simultaneously, a strange buzz was spreading from his stomach to the rest of his body, making his blood warmer and his heartbeat faster. _I kissed you that night, I need you_ , he replayed Miles’ words over and over in his head until he felt even more confused than before. Before Alex could utter the word ‘ _what_ ’ for the third time, Miles spoke up again, numbing all his senses at once:

“ _I love you_.”


	7. Chapter 7

There was no oxygen left in his lungs and for that matter in any other part of his body as well. Alex felt as if he was going to faint any minute, his arms desperately searching for something to grasp onto in case of emergency. It reminded him of those rainy days when the pressure is so low that your head hurts and every time you make a movement faster than necessary, you have to sit down for a while and wait until you no longer see white stars in front of your eyes…. _but a thousand times worse_.

Once, when Manchester was covered in dark grey clouds for almost a full week and Alex’s migraine was getting out of control, Miles had brought him a cup of tea and let him rest, cuddled up in his arms on the sofa. He remembered the migraine hadn’t disappeared, but there was a strange tingly feeling in his stomach that was so pleasurable he could no longer give a fuck about his temples pulsating. _Miles_.

He was brought back to reality again. He could still hear him calmly crying, although he was sure Miles was trying his best to cover up that fact based on the irregular sniffs that echoed around the otherwise quiet apartment. The only sensible thing that came into Alex’s brain was to hug Miles, hug him tight and never let him go. It may not have seemed like the most rational thing to someone else, considering that Miles had confessed his love towards the other not even a full minute ago, but to Alex it felt right.

Miles’ hands shot to his waist and not even knowing how, they found themselves huddled up on the wooded floor, holding the other with as much strength as their small bodies allowed them to. Miles started crying more vigorously once again, wetting Alex’s shoulder and bringing him to tears of his own. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours that they stayed in that position; holding onto each other for dear life, breathing the other’s exhaled warm air and silently sobbing, unable to speak yet with all the emotions that had come rushing out of their system all at once.

Alex thought about how they would both be laughing at this situation in few years time and make fun of the other for how silly they had acted and how much it had looked like a scene from an overly soppy French film. And then it hit him, _I want Miles to be there in all those years to come, I need him as much as he needs me_.

He detached himself just enough to look at Miles properly. His eyes were bloodshot and tears were still running down his cheeks although he had already stopped crying, but he still looked as beautiful as ever to Alex. In fact, Alex was certain he wasn’t in a much better state. In one slow movement he wiped away one of the bigger teardrops making its way down to Miles’ lips and tucked a loose strand of his slightly damp hair behind his ear. Miles leaned in to the touch and closed his eyes. Alex wasn’t sure if the boy wasn’t able to look him directly in the eyes or if he relished their close proximity so much so that he wanted it to last, for it to be etched onto his closed eyelids forever. He sincerely hoped for the second option. Alex sighed with exhaustion and connected his forehead with Miles’. He felt completely drained; there were no more tears and no more caught up air left in his body, only the constant swirling of Miles’ words in his head.

“Miles..” he breathed out, not quite sure why he had done so.

He just wanted to make sure Miles was still there, still breathing, and most importantly, still loving him. After a shuddered breath had escaped Miles’ lips, letting him know he was more than present, Alex connected their lips together.

When Alex was younger, a boy had come up to him in the park and told him about how your life flashes before your eyes right when you are about to die. He hadn’t believed him then, but the little bug had already been planted in his brain, occasionally bothering him when he wasn’t able to sleep at night. When he kissed Miles, thousands of images came rushing to his closed eyelids and although it all seemed as a mass of undistinguishable memories and dreams, he could remember each and every one of the scenarios clearly.

 _Miles opening the front door for him for the first time. Miles laughing drunkenly. Miles taking photos of him. Miles smoking out of the kitchen window. Miles singing along to a Roy Orbison record. Miles sweeping snowflakes away from his for once unkempt hair and shivering from the cold. Miles, Miles, Miles_.

It was quite the opposite of dying, Alex was sure, but it had the same effect on him. The kiss was innocent, but held in so much emotion, so many untold secrets, and so much love that it couldn’t have been more perfect. Alex could taste the slightly salty remains of Miles’ crying and a scent that had haunted him since the night he’d got so awfully drunk, only now realising it was the scent of Miles himself.

He wasn’t sure if he was still kissing the other boy or if his lips had just went numb and were simply pressed against Miles’. He might have actually fainted and it was all a dream. If that were true, he was certain he didn’t want to wake up any time soon. Alex only came back to his senses when, to his surprise, Miles pulled away and instead buried his nose in the crook of Alex’s neck, letting another shuddered breath travel through his body. Alex could feel his muscles were tense, as if there was still something left in Miles’ body that need to be let out. Something that needed to be said out loud.

“Alex?” Miles asked innocently, his voice unsteady.

“Hmhm.”

“Are you leavin’?”

“ _Never_.”


End file.
